By the Grace of God
by reading.fanfics.at.200am.hbu
Summary: A stubborn Jack hides his failing health from his family, but this deception can only last so long...
1. Chapter 1

Jack reached for the light switch next to the door. He and Cas were going on a hunt in the morning, but Jack couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he couldn't help thinking about the illness he was suffering from. If Cas ever found out… no. He wouldn't think about it. He finally found the light switch and turned it on, and bright light assaulted his eyes as he lay back down on the bed, trying in vain to get a few hours of relaxation before morning.

Every couple hours, Jack checked the time. Once it was the time he and Cas were supposed to leave, he quickly threw on a t-shirt and jeans and went to meet Cas for the hunt.

···

Cas watched Jack enter the room and raised one hand to let him know where he was.

Jack crossed the room quickly but stumbled on the small set of stairs leading to the room Cas was in. Cas caught him gently before he could hit the floor.

"Are you okay?" Cas looked at Jack with a look of genuine concern and slight amusement.

"Yes, I just missed a step…"

"Um, there's only one step Jack."

"Yes." Jack looked at Cas with his best innocent face and Cas looked back, bemused.

"Alright. Well, get your stuff. We leave in five."

···

Jack hastily returned to his room to pack his bag. As he was packing, he felt himself begin to cough. Sensing that it would be bad if he let go, he tried to hold it back, but the more he tried, the harder it got until it was impossible. He grabbed a handful of tissues and coughed into them, trying to muffle the sound and catch whatever came up. Finally, the coughing stopped, and when he pulled the tissue away from his mouth, he saw all of the blood on it and sighed, tossing the tissue into the trash can. He heard a soft knock on the door, and Dean poked his head in.

"You okay? I heard you coughing from down the hall and just wanted to check in."Jack looked at Dean and tried to rearrange his face into something that hopefully resembled an "I'm good" face.

"I'm fine. Cas and I are going on a hunt!" Jack tried to change the subject, but Dean began to look doubtful and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Look, I get it. You want to pretend you're okay so that you can go out and hunt, but I see through that. We all do. You're hurting, Jack, and you need to rest. The world will go on if you take a sick day." Dean sat on the bed next to Jack and put his arm around him. "Why don't you stay here, just this once? We can watch a movie or something." Jack tried to answer that no, he needed to hunt, but his voice rusted over. He tried to clear his throat but found himself in a coughing fit. Dean looked over at him worriedly and patted his back until the coughing subsided. Jack was able to hold the cough back this time though, so it wasn't very long until he replied to Dean.

"I know you just want to protect me. I understand. But I can still hunt. Besides, it's not like I'll be alone. Cas will be with me."

"Look, kid, you can't even carry a conversation without breaking down into coughing. You're in no condition to be out there fighting. You'd just get hurt." Dean paused, then removed his arm from Jack's back. "Do you have a fever?" Dean asked, his ordinarily indifferent voice ringing with concern.

"I don't know." Jack was lying. He did know. He could feel it. Dean placed his hand on Jack's forehead and immediately pulled back, his brow creasing.

"Uh, yeah, you do. I'll get Cas. You are not going out like that. No way" Dean rose and left the room quickly, and Jack laid back down on the bed, succumbing to his tired body. It wasn't long before Dean returned, this time with Cas in tow.

"Jack -" Cas started, but Jack cut him off.

"Cas, I'm fine. I can still hunt." He tried to get up to prove his point but found that his legs didn't want to take his weight, and he fell back onto the bed. Cas rushed forward and put a hand on Jack's shoulder, pushing him down into the bed.

"I can't believe you were going to let me take you on a hunt in your condition." Behind Cas, Dean began to unpack Jack's bag.

"No, don't -" Jack started, but the look on Dean's face cut him off when he lifted the bag to see the trash can hidden behind it. He slowly lifted the trashcan to get a better look inside, and his face went deathly pale. Cas turned to see what was wrong and gasped out loud. Sitting in the trash can, for the whole world to see, were the bloody tissues of the last few days.

"Cas, I can explain -" But he couldn't explain. It was precisely what it looked like. He had been coughing up blood and didn't tell anyone, Jack tried to continue talking, but at that moment, his chest seized, instigating a fit of coughing. He coughed into his hand but, knowing that blood would start coming up soon, he grabbed some tissues and coughed into them, expelling large amounts of dark red blood. Cas and Dean rushed towards Jack and sat on both sides of him, waiting the coughing out.

"Jack, what's going on?" Cas's voice was tinged with fear as he put a hand on Jack's shoulder in a comforting manner. It wasn't clear whether he was comforting Jack or comforting himself.

"Well, I've been sick."

"I can see that, but why? Do you know?"

"No, but I…" Jack decided he would come clean, "I can feel it, eating away inside of me. It feels wrong." Cas and Dean exchanged looks of alarm, then Dean turned to Jack.

"Here, I'm going to go get Sam. Cas… stay with him. Jack, I don't know what's going on, but I'm going to fix it," then, in a tone so quiet he thought no one else could hear, he added, "I have to."

···

Dean walked quickly through the hallway, mind whirling. "Why, why wouldn't he say anything? Doesn't he know we just want to help him? And what's the deal with the 'eating away inside of me' crap?" Dean was so absorbed in his thinking that he didn't even notice when Bobby walked in front of him, and they collided roughly.

"Hey, Dean! Watch where you're going!" Bobby then looked at Dean for the first time and his usual look of perpetual annoyance faded, leaving confusion. "What's wrong with you? You look like - well, I would say like you've seen a ghost, but that's every day for you."

"Bobby, it's Jack. He's… he's really sick."

"Like how sick?"

"Like… I don't know! How the hell am I supposed to know? Have you seen Sam?" Bobby's eyes narrowed before answering.

"Uh, no, I haven't. I think he's out with Charlie. But Jack, is he okay?"

"Um, I don't know. None of us do. Well, if you see Sam, tell him to get his ass down here now."

···

Cas looked down at Jack, waves of fear rolling over his body. He couldn't be sick, he just couldn't. Cas placed his hand on Jack's chest to try and heal him but was met with a blockade. This was concerning enough, but among closer inspection, he found something profoundly disturbing.

"Jack, this sickness. How long after you lost your grace did it start?"

"Almost immediately. Why?

"Well, when your grace was torn from your body, it created a wound. A kind of wound that will eat away at you. Left untreated, it can get infected, so to speak."

"So, what does that mean?"

"It means that because it wasn't dealt with, now not only do you have this debilitating thing spreading through your body, but you're much more susceptible to human illnesses. You haven't gotten any yet, believe me, we would know, but you will if we don't fix this."

"Can you fix it?"

"I… I can try. But Jack, you have to realize that it has spread much farther than I think I can deal with. I would need more power, and with heaven the way it is, that's just not something I have access to right now. We could ask Rowena, but once she finds out who you are, I don't know if she'll want to help you."

Jack's eyes fell and began to fill with tears.

"So, it's my fault then. I did this."

"No Jack, this is not your fault. There is no way you could've known how bad it was."

"I could have said something! I was stupid, and -" Jack trailed off, trying to articulate exactly how he felt, but Cas understood. He felt the same way when he used another angel's grace and began to burn out, leaving him sick and weak. But he also understood that this was not Jack's fault. Jack was not to blame, it was the man, the thing that took his grace.

Cas's train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the door opening and Dean walking in.

"I couldn't find Sam. He's out on a hunt with Charlie and he's not answering his phone. Figures."

"Dean, can I talk to you? Alone?"

"Sure, okay…" They stepped into the hallway, leaving Jack's door open a crack so that they could hear him if he needed anything, "What's up?"

"Dean, Jack is sick. Really sick. If this isn't taken care of soon, and I mean within a few weeks, Jack could die." Dean was silent, absorbing what Cas said.

"Well, why can't you just power up and heal him?"

"This isn't a normal problem Dean," Cas said impatiently, "It would take an immense amount of power to heal him, more than I have even at my strongest. And because he's the child of an archangel, it would take at least the power of an archangel to heal him."

"Well what then, we just let him die?"

"No, of course not. We have to find another way. I just don't know what that is yet."

"Guys?" Jack called, and Cas was alarmed at how weak his voice sounded, when earlier he sounded just fine.

"Yeah, Jack?" Dean called back.

"Can you come in here please?"

"Sure." Dean gave a sideways glance to Cas and stepped into the room. When they came in they saw Jack, leaning against the wall, with a bag packed beside him.

"Jack, what are you doing? You need to rest." Cas made to help Jack into the bed, but Jack stopped him.

"Cas, we're going on that hunt. And we're going to go now. I know you disagree, but -"

"Jack, there is no way you are going on a hunt right now."

"Well, according to you, we don't have the means to fix me. So I'm going to die. And if I'm going to die, I need to actually live. SItting around doing nothing but resting is a waste of the time I have left."

"Jack, we can't risk it -"

"Let him go," Cas looked at Dean with annoyance and surprise. He had expected Dean to take his side and was miffed that he didn't, "It's not like he'll be alone. You'll be with him." Cas found that he had no answer to this. Looking at Jack, seeing the pain and the determination in his face, Cas felt himself relent, just a little.

"Okay, but Jack, I am not going to let you fight. You can help me solve the case, but when it comes to killing the monster, you are going to stay behind. If you get any worse, we are coming back home. Immediately." Jack's face lit up with excitement and surprise. He did not expect Cas to let him go, but now, he was elated.

Dean turned to Cas, a hard but compassionate look on his face, "Take care of him. He's counting on you. I'm counting on you." He gently grabbed Cas's hand, pulling it toward him. His other hand then drifted up to Cas's face, and he gave him a quick kiss.

"Now go kick it in the ass."


	2. Chapter 2

****CHAPTER TWO****

Sam sped down the highway, Charlie in the passenger's seat. It was a good hunt, a whole nest of vamps taken out, and all he wanted to do was take a shower and go to sleep. He glanced at her, noticing the blood splattered on her clothes, and the way she stared out of the window as if she would rather be anywhere else.

"Hey, Charlie, what's up? You seem... quiet." Charlie's eyes snapped to attention and focused on Sam.

"I'm fine."

"Convincing…"

"Seriously, I just… I can't help thinking about how different my life would be if the apocalypse never happened. Sometimes I wish I never lived through it. That would be better than remembering all of these things."

"Charlie, we've talked about this. Everything that has happened after has made you who you are. And you save people. Don't forget that."

"Okay…"

"Really? I thought I was going to have to fight you way more on that."

"No, you're right. I need to stop focusing on what happened and look at what will happen." Charlie took out her phone, plugged in her earbuds, and pressed play, signaling that she was done with the conversation. Sam returned his eyes to the road, mind on nothing but sleep.

···

Frustrated, Dean pressed Sam's contact in his phone and attempted to call him again, and again, it went straight to voicemail. Giving up on calling Sam, he instead called Charlie.

"Hey Charlie, are you guys okay? Sam's not answering his phone."

"Ya, we're fine. Sam's phone is broken."

"That's nice. Can you hand the phone to him now? Or at least put it on speaker."

"Nice to talk to you too. You're on speaker."

"Hey Dean, is everything okay?"

"No, everything is not okay! I called you like ten times!"

"It's not my fault my phone broke!"

"Well that's not why I called. You need to come home. Now."

"We're on our way. What happened?"

"Jack is sick."

"He has had that cough for a few weeks."

"Not that kind of sick. He's really sick. He could… he could die Sammy…"

"Where is he now?"

"Um, he might be on a hunt…"

"YOU LET HIM GO ON A HUNT!"

"He was insisting, and if he's going to die, we have to let him do things that he wants to do. We can't be so selfish that we don't let him live before he dies. Look, we'll talk about this later. Just… come home."

" Fine, bye."

As Sam hung up the phone, Dean put his head in his hands. At least Sam was okay. He couldn't handle it if he had both Jack and Sam to worry about. Dean opened his computer and began to type, trying in vain to find anything that could help Jack get better. His searches were met with disappointment, and, dejected, he finally headed to his room to try and get some sleep.

···

Jack opened his eyes and immediately began to stifle a cough. A glance around the hotel room told him that Cas was not there, so he let it go, using a napkin to keep blood from getting on the sheets. He rose to flush it down the toilet, a thing he did to hide it from Cas. He knew he shouldn't hide it, but Cas was already worried and having him be more worried wouldn't help anything. Just as Jack laid back down, Cas walked into the hotel, carrying a single plastic bag.

"Where did you go?" Jack asked, without sitting up.

"To the store. I remembered that since you are human, you have to eat, so I bought you some food." Castiel then proceeded to dump about ten pounds of fruit onto the table.

"Cas, this isn't -"

"I read online that sick kids should eat a lot of fruit."

"You… you read online?"

"Yes," He hesitated, "This is all really new to me. I've never had to take care of someone before."

"Cas, you're doing well. You don't have to worry about it."

"Yes, I do."

"Is it going to help anything?" Cas found that he had no answer to this.

"Just go back to sleep." Jack laughed softly, trying to hold himself in, but found that he could no longer control it. He began to cough, softly at first, then harder as he continued. Without looking at Cas, he went to the bathroom and knelt over the toilet, letting the blood drip from his mouth into the clear water, turning it bright red.

"Jack!" Cas ran towards Jack and knelt beside him, patting his back firmly, waiting for the coughing to subside. After a few minutes, when Jack could breathe again, Cas turned Jack to face him. He started to speak but stopped short.

"I'm okay." Jack drew a shaky breath and stood up, Cas standing with him.

"No, no you're definitely not. I'm calling Dean. This was a bad idea."

"No, don't!" Cas reached for the phone, but without warning, the phone shot off the counter and onto the floor, shattering. He turned to look at Jack.

"Did… did you... " Cas looked at Jack with disbelief, "Did you just do that?" His shock turned to fear when he noticed Jack's face. It was pale, paler than Cas had ever seen it, and blood was running from his nose and mouth freely.

"I don't… I don't... " But Jack didn't get any further than that before he slumped to the floor, unconscious, the world slipping out from under him.

···

Dean awoke suddenly, heart beating wildly. His eyes darted around the room before he remembered that he was at home, not with Michael. Michael was gone, and never coming back. He told himself this, but he still had the nightmares. He usually didn't wake up though. Before he could figure out what woke him, his phone buzzed on the nightstand. A glance at the caller ID told him that it was Cas. Smile playing on his lips, he picked up the phone to answer.

"Hey beautiful. Get lonely without me?"

"Dean, something's wrong. Jack, he… he won't wake up."

"What happened?" His recently calmed heart sped up again as he awaited Cas's answer.

"He… he was coughing and he got mad and then he just… collapsed."

"Why was he mad?"

"I was going to call you and tell you that we were going home. And that's.. That's not all…"

"Of course it's not. What else?"

"My phone, when I tried to pick it up, it sort of… moved"

"Well, Cas, when you pick things up that's generally what they do."

"No Dean, it shot across the room. Before I touched it."

"How?"

"Well, that's what I don't know. I mean, it could be..."

"What? It could be what? Jack? Cas, he lost his grace."

"Not all of it."

"And that is relevant why?"

"It could regenerate."

"Well yeah, but you said that could take a century."

"Or a couple months."

"Cas, you're scared and probably irrational. You don't know what you're saying. Are you coming home?"

"Yes, I've been driving for the past three hours. We should be back in an hour."

"Okay. I'll be waiting for you. And Cas? We'll get through this. We'll fix Jack and figure out this grace thing because that's what we do."

"If you say so…"

"We will. And hey, I love you."

"Me too."

"Wow. No amount of stress will make you not say it back. Say it."

"Dean…"

"Say. It."

"Fine. I love you too. See you in an hour."

Cas hung up the phone, and Dean rose to get dressed. Despite all that was going on, and the fear he felt for Jack, he couldn't help smiling as he thought about Cas. Suddenly, he heard the sound of the front door slamming, followed by the crashing sound of someone falling down the stairs. Dean quickly finished getting dressed and quickly went to the main room to see what was going on. He was met with the scene of Sam laying at the bottom of the stairs, bag spilled out and clothes piled on top of him.

"Sam? Hey, Sammy!" Dean rushed to Sam to see if he was okay.

"Hey Dean." Sam stated with an exhausted air of sarcasm. Once Dean knew Sam was okay, all concern gave way to humor. Dean tried to control his laughter and instead gave Sam a look of polite indifference.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh, you know, just relaxing. It's really comfortable, you should try it." he said, trying to control the sound of pain in his voice. He couldn't show Dean that he was hurt. That was metaphorical suicide. Unable to hold it in any longer, Dean began to laugh. Sam, forgetting all of the stressors at the moment, started laughing too. It's a funny thing, fear. The very emotion that can bring such tension and conflict can also result in hilarious moments like these. They laughed until they couldn't laugh anymore, and tears were rolling down their faces. Slowly, the laughter subsided, and they were left with the uncomfortable silence that always follows moments of irrational joy.

"Um, are you okay?" Dean asked, suppressing erratic aftershocks of laughter. He extended a hand to help Sam up and, grateful, he took it.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Because, you know, if you need an ice pack…"

"Bite me, Dean." Sam exited the room, carrying his clothes in an unorganized pile. Dean laughed softly and walked back towards his room, his mind swimming with thoughts of Jack and Cas once more.

···

Cas's eyes flitted between the road and Jack as he drove frantically, hoping, praying, that he would get to the bunker in time. His phone showed that he had three missed calls from Dean, but he couldn't bring himself to answer the phone. He would be there in five minutes, he told himself, it wasn't worth the time to answer the phone. He drifted off the highway onto the solitary road that led to the bunker. The pavement crackled familiarly under his tires as he pulled up to the imposing building that was home.

Quickly, Cas opened the back door of the car and gently lifted Jack from the seat. He was light, and Cas was full of adrenaline, so this small act took almost no effort. Jack did not stir, and Cas was alarmed when he felt the rattling of Jack's chest against his own. At least he was still alive. That was all that mattered right now. Without locking the car or taking out their things, he hurried to the door and entered the building.

"Dean!" Shutting the door behind him, Cas started down the stairs without waiting for a reply. He went to the infirmary and set Jack down on the bed.

"Cas! Hey Cas, when -" Dean started, but was cut off by the sound of weak coughing from the bed behind them.

"Jack!" In a flash, Dean was by his side, as well as Cas. Jack opened his mouth to talk, but no words came out, just more hoarse coughing. Cas looked at Dean helplessly, then back at Jack. Slowly, the coughing relented, and Jack was quiet once more.

"Jack, hey, buddy, are you awake?" Dean prompted anxiously.

"Yes," The words barely escaped his lips. His voice was scarcely a whisper, and that small word seemed to take an enormous effort, "Where are we?"

"Shh, don't talk. It's okay. We're home." Dean was not even trying to contain his fear anymore, and neither was Cas. They had never seen him like this, and they didn't like it at all. Jack, in the meantime, had started to cough again, and blood was beginning to stain his mouth and shirt. Cas rolled him over so that he didn't choke, and when the coughing was over, Jack was still again. Cas turned to Dean, terror etched all over his face.

"I don't know what to do. I just want him to get better."

"I know. Me too, but we have to be strong. For Jack." Cas nodded his accent.

"For Jack."


	3. Chapter 3

Jack couldn't think. He couldn't see. It was all he could do to focus on breathing. In and out. In and out. Each breath in felt like knives dragging across the inside of his chest, and every breath out felt like scraping razors against his throat. He felt the need to cough, but he couldn't muster the energy to do so. When he exhaled, small amounts of blood pooled in his mouth and spilled over the edge, decorating the pillow of which he laid on. Suddenly, he felt warm, calloused hands lift his shoulders and lean him over the bed. Blood ran from his mouth into a basin that had been placed next to the bed. The same hands that had lifted him so gently before now hit him roughly on the back, and the tightness in his chest seemed to lessen a bit.

"There you go, get it out…" The gentle voice of Sam Winchester drifted towards Jack's ears, and he felt at peace. Sam laid Jack back on the bed and pulled the covers over him, and Jack fell into a fitful sleep once more.

"Dean, he's… he's getting worse. Much worse. If I hadn't gone into his room when I did, he would've choked on his own blood," Sam stood in front of Dean and Cas, but he was directing his speech at Dean, and Dean only, searching for comfort in his older brother's eyes. Sam's face was pale and his eyes were bleary with tears, but his jaw was set in anger, directed at himself. "I don't know how to help him. I should know how to help him!" Dean crossed the room and put his hand on Sam's shoulder, trying to comfort his panicking brother.

"I know, Sammy, I know, just calm down. He'll be fine. I mean, we always are, and he's included in 'we'. And for God's sake, sit down! You look dead on your feet." Resentfully, Sam did as he was told and collapsed into the nearest chair.

"I know, but this is different. He lost a part of himself, and we can't just go find it. It died with the Devil." Sam closed his eyes and rested his head on his palms, fighting back tears.

"Look, Sammy, go get some rest. We can't have you out of commission as well. We need you to help us fix Jack." At this, Cas stepped forward tentatively and sat in the chair next to Sam. He was about to speak, but Sam cut him off.

"There is no way I am going to leave him. My health… it doesn't matter. Not right now. I can handle a few sleepless nights. It won't be the first time, and it won't be the last," Smiling at the doubtful look on Dean's face, he added: "I promise, Dean," and gave him the puppy dog look Sam knew he was famous for.

"Fine. But don't keep yourself running on empty. Here," He fished out his keys and tossed them at Sam, "Why don't you go pick us up some grub." Sam caught the keys and started to make his way towards the door.

"And Sam?" Dean called, "Take care of her." Sam scoffed and shut the door behind him, leaving Dean and Cas to their whispered musings around the broken form of Jack Kline.

Jack awoke to the sound of whispers being thrown across his limp body. Keeping his eyes closed, he focused on the voices of what sounded like Cas and Dean.

"Cas, do you think we should call Rowena? Maybe there's a spell."

"No. This is beyond the realm of any magic that I've ever heard of. Maybe if it hadn't spread this far, but now, we would need need angelic power, preferably of an archangel."

"Well, we're fresh out of those, so let's keep looking. There has to be something else. There's always something else." Jack laughed silently at Dean's everlasting sarcasm, but this small act triggered a coughing fit that left him out of breath and teary-eyed, and also alerted the others to the fact that he was conscious.

"Jack!" Cas laid a hand on Jack's forehead, almost as a reflex, to check his temperature, "Jack, buddy, how are you feeling?" Jack cleared his throat tentatively before answering.

"That's a stupid question." Cas smiled and Dean huffed out a laugh, their shoulders visibly relaxing at the familiar sound of his voice. Jack's eyes did a quick swoop around the room and he noted the absence of Sam.

"Where's Sam?"

"He went out to get us some food, he'll be back soon."

"Oh." Jack relaxed back into the pillow, coughing slightly as he did so. He didn't realize that this had brought up blood until he felt Dean wipe his lips with a tissue, quickly but gently.

"Jack? Hey, Jack, are you with us?" Dean asked anxiously.

"Yeah."

"Look, we… we need to talk to you."

" 'Bout what?"

"About your grace."

"What about it?"

"Do you know that you used it?"

"No, I…, " Jack's eyes unfocused, then snapped abruptly back to Dean, "Trash can."

"What?" Despite his confusion, Dean grabbed the trash can and handed it to Jack. Just in time too, as almost immediately after Dean let go of the trash can, Jack gagged, then threw up a few times into it. The vomit was mostly bile and blood, as he had not eaten in over twenty-four hours. He shakily wiped his mouth with a tissue that was in his hand and threw that away as well.

"What do I do with this?" He asked.

"I'll take care of it." Said Cas, and he grabbed the trash can and walked out of the room, unbothered by the smell of blood and vomit that was permeating from it.

Dean eyed Jack worriedly, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I guess I just swallowed too much blood or something. This isn't the first time that has happened."

"I'm so sorry Jack. I wish I could make this better for you."

"You don't have to be sorry, Dean. This is not your fault. I should have said something sooner. I should've… I don't know what I should've done, but not this."

"Hey, it's okay." Dean sat down on the side of the bed and rubbed Jack's arm, "I'm gonna go get you some crackers, just so you can get something into your stomach, okay? I'll be right back." Dean started to stand up but Jack grabbed his arm.

"Please, don't leave me." Dean melted at the look of fear radiating off the kid.

"What are you afraid of? We aren't going to let anything happen to you, you know that right?"

"If I die -"

"Jack, stop."

"No, Dean, let me say this." Dean sighed, his emotions threatening to spill over if this kid says one more goddamn word. "If I die, I don't want to die alone. So please, don't leave me. At least until Sam or Cas comes back." Dean hastily wiped any trace of vulnerability from his face and nodded.

"Alright kid, scooch over." Dean laid down next to Jack and put and arm around him, letting Jack rest his head on Dean's chest. "Wait, are you going to throw up again? Because this is my nice flannel." Jack chuckles softly, ending in a painful sounding cough. He shook his head and used another stray tissue to spit blood into. Dean took it and threw it into another bin that was in the room.

"I love you Dean." Jack whispered, and before Dean could respond, he was asleep.

Cas walked back down the hallway after cleaning the trash can, He had no idea how difficult it was to clean clotting blood and vomit out of a plastic bin. He would have to remember that, he thought to himself. He walked into the room they were keeping Jack in and immediately saw Dean laying in bed with Jack, both fast asleep. Cas shook Dean awake gently and knelt down next to him.

"How is he doing?"

"He's scared to death, but I think the vomiting helped clear his lungs a bit. He doesn't sound as bad anymore." They paused to listen to Jack's breathing. Dean was right; it didn't seem as labored as it was before.

"That's good… If you want to go and try to sleep I can stay here."

"No, I want to stay with him."

"Okay well I'll just… I'll just go then." Cas started making his way to the door, his shoulders slumped.

"Cas?"

"Yes Dean?" Cas turned around quickly, holding himself more rigid than before.

"Do you want to stay?"

"Yes! I mean, yes, if you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind, get over here." Cas walked to the bed and laid down on the opposite side as Dean, so that Jack was in between them. Dean reached his free hand over to Cas's and they joined hands, linking their fingers together.

"Get some sleep Dean."

"Okay, that sounds… that sounds great," Dean said, already drifting off to sleep. Cas turned of angel radio and allowed himself to sleep, just this once, just because he didn't want to stay awake and stare at Dean. Dean had once told him that it was creepy. Slowly, Cas drifted off to sleep as well, calmed by the rhythmic sound of Jack's breathing and Dean's hand in his.

And that was how Sam found them, all asleep in that small bed. Two fathers and their son.


	4. Chapter 4

When Dean awoke, it was near midnight, and Jack was still asleep. Cas had gone from the bed, and Dean assumed he was doing some angelly thing somewhere else. When he surveyed the room (a common reflex as a hunter), however, he saw Cas standing in the corner, staring as Dean.

"Jesus, Cas! I thought I told you that was creepy!"

"I couldn't let myself sleep. Too many things in my head. Besides," Cas blushed a little, "You looked cute, laying there with Jack… I just had to watch."

"I don't know whether to be flattered or to lock my door at night," Dean joked, but Cas didn't smile. Dean stood up slowly, careful not to wake Jack, and made his way over to the angel, "Hey, what's wrong? I mean, besides the obvious."

"It's just… I promised Kelly I would take care of him. And now, he's dying, and I can't… I can't help him." The look of pain on Cas's face brought tears to Dean's eyes, and he placed a hand on Cas's shoulder.

"Hey now, none of that. Jack's a Winchester. He can get through this. And if he can't, we'll make him. You know that." To Dean's surprise, Cas leaned in for a hug. Dean obliged, wrapping his arms around him. Cas breathed in deeply and wrapped his arms tighter around Dean.

"Thank you so much for helping me when you are hurting too. This is not your job. I should be the one comforting you. I'm the celestial being, I'm the one who raised you from perdition, I'm supposed to be the strong one, I'm supposed to - "

"Stop it, Cas. I'm a big boy; I can take care of myself. It's not a crime to need help every once and awhile. Besides, he's your son, you're allowed to break down a little when he's not watching. And, I love you. I will do anything for the one I love." Cas pulled away, eyes wet, then leaned back in and kissed Dean slowly, passionately. Dean reciprocated, putting a hand on each side of Cas's face and deepening the kiss.

"Dean," Cas said, cutting off the kiss, "I love you too. It's hard for me to say, and I may not always act like it, but I have fallen for a human, and that human is you. Please, I want you to know this."

"I know Cas, I've always known"

"Good." Dean goes in to kiss Cas again, but they are stopped by Sam's laughter from the doorway.

"No, no, sorry. Don't stop on my account! I was enjoying the show," Sam says, clearly entertained. Neither Dean nor Cas said anything, but they were both blushing furiously. Without saying a word, Dean turned and knelt beside Jack, feeling his head to gauge the fever.

"I think his fever's gone up. If is goes up any further we'll be in trouble." Dean gently shook Jack awake, keeping a box of tissues and a trash can at the ready, "Hey buddy, you think you could wake up for me?" Jack groaned, then coughed deeply. Dean held some tissues up to his face, and after about a minute, he took them from Jack's mouth. They came away bloody. He tossed them into the trash can, then helped Jack sit up against the headboard, "You think you're done?"

"I… yeah. I'm done."

"How are you feeling?" Cas says, clearly anxious for a reply.

"Well, my head hurts, my chest hurts, my legs hurt… basically everything hurts."

"Do you feel better or worse than before?" Sam interjects.

"I don't know," Jack pauses, as if he's thinking about something intently, "But I am hungry."

"You're hungry?" Says Dean and Sam simultaneously. They glance at each other, then Dean continues.

"Well, that's good, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess." Mumbles Jack, his throat obviously hurting him from all the coughing.

"Hey, Jack, would you like some tea? I mean, for your throat, it's supposed to help…" Cas looks around the room, daring anyone to make fun of him. No one does. In fact, no one says a word. They just all look at Jack with sad faces. That is, until Dean snaps his head back up and looks Cas straight in the eyes.

"That's a great idea Cas. And I'll make him some soup." Dean flashes a warm smile towards Jack and his brother before leaving the room with Cas, their fingers intertwined and the feeling of love running between them. Before they arrive at the kitchen Dean pulls Cas close and whispers into his ear.

"Don't doubt yourself. You're doing fine. No one really knows how to handle their kid getting sick. Just… keep being you, okay man?" Cas swallows the lump in his throat and nods. They pull apart and walk into the kitchen, Cas obviously more relaxed than before. Working side by side, the silently create a meal for Jack.

After Dean and Cas left, Sam pulled out his computer and began to read. He read everything from ancient healing rituals to spells to bring back the dead. Sam was desperate, and the sound of Jack's laboured breathing did nothing to calm the anxiety festering deep inside him. Suddenly, Sam couldn't breathe. All he could think was " _He can't die, he can't die!"_. Sam sat there, shaking, rocking back and forth as the waves of fear just kept coming over him, until Dean and Cas walked through the door holding a bowl of soup and a mug of tea.

"Sam!" Dean quickly puts down the soup and races to his brothers side. "Sammy! What's…"

"I can't, I can't, if he dies, Dean, what am I going to _do_?" Sam breathes out. Dean puts his hands on his brother's shoulders, steadying him, grounding him.

"Sammy, hey, he's not going to die. Trust me. We have a whole bunker full of lore, and _something_ in here has to help him." Sam looks at Dean, eyes full of fear and love that makes Dean embrace him. "It will be okay. It _will_ be okay. But now, you need to sleep. You're no good to Jack if you can't think straight."

"No I - "

"Dammit, Sammy, I can't worry about you too!" Sam recoils at the harsh words directed at him. "We have enough on our plate without you getting sick because you won't take care of yourself! So please, Sam, rest. For Jack. For me. Please."

"I'm no good to Jack if I'm asleep!"

"That's enough." Cas speaks, deadly calm, and it sends chills up Sam and Dean's spines. He walks towards Sam and places his hand on his forehead. And, just like that, Sam is asleep. Dean turns to Cas.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me Dean, he was going to destroy himself worrying. Speaking of that, why don't you go sleep too? I know you didn't get enough earlier."

"Okay Cas, for you." Dean smirks and pecks the angel on the cheek as he walks out of the room. After Cas hears Dean's bedroom door shut, he walks over to the sleeping form of Jack and looks at him sadly.

"Please, Jack, don't die. We wouldn't make it. _I_ wouldn't make it. Hold on, please." Cas bends down and kisses Jack softly on the forehead, then takes his position in a chair in the corner of the room. Keeping watch while the brothers sleep, making sure that his son can breathe. Not even noticing when the screaming starts.


End file.
